Frustration Deflation
by Pomodoro Crisi
Summary: Mattie gets frustrated with Gilbo's mixed signals and finally snaps. Talk of princesses and pancakes and beer. Slightly seme!Matthew. I don't even know about the title...


**This is soooo later than I wanted it to be, it was meant to be put up for Gilbo's birthday but my computer loves me to death and killed itself...again...so yeah hopefully this doesn't suck too bad... **

**There's angry and slightly seme Mattie! Yay! I just couldn't resist!  
**

Frustration Deflation

Matthew couldn't believe he was dealing with something like this. He was over a hundred years old for crying out loud, and here he was freaking out over whether or not someone _liked_ him. Albeit it was an important – in his eyes – someone, but that did not require the level of exasperation he felt every time he laid eyes on the man. It wasn't right or proper and, honestly, he didn't care for propriety anymore so that shouldn't even be a factor of how this was wrong on so many levels. He was pining for a man, for one, _that_ should have been a big no-no right there – though he had been raised by Francis and everyone knew what had gone on with him and Arthur, so there really was no surprise that this was no a factor against him. The man in question was a good millennium or so older than him – that was a good reason, though still not a big one in his book; everyone was either older or younger than their significant others in the group he called friends, it wasn't uncommon, though a millennium was a very long time. No, nothing that would be logical was keeping him from acting on any of the things he felt for his friend, it was the sheer fact that he had no idea if the man like him the same way. As if he'd even get a straight answer from someone as 'awesome' as he was.

He was frustrated beyond belief. Everyday that man would walk into his house just to demand pancakes regardless of the time of day – or night. He would sit right next to him, though there was space on the other side of the table, and touch him with his leg or brush his hand against his for no reason whatsoever. And to top it all off, he acted as if he had no idea that his host would practically lean into those touches as if they were his life force, as if the fact that he was driving someone who was apparently his best friend to the point where he wanted the man to take him on any and every available surface was nothing to be concerned about. There would be those rare but significant – at least to Matthew – moments where Gilbert would linger longer than necessary as if he wanted to do something more, only to turn away and leave Matthew wishing he had taken the incentive to actually bridge the gap between them. It annoyed the small blond to no end and he just wanted Gilbert to stop acting as if he wanted more than friendship and then turn around and act as if the moment had never happened. He was tired of curling up every night with a pillow and wishing it was Gilbert he was cuddling instead. He wanted to stop being a coward and either force Gilbert to just kiss him already or yell at him to stop messing around with his damn feelings. He just didn't know how.

And what if Gilbert took what he'd said and turned around and ignored him, treated him as if he didn't exist? How would he be able to go through life alone again? He didn't want to be alone – Cuba didn't count since he continuously mistook him for Alfred – he didn't want to feel that crushing emptiness again. He wouldn't be able to handle it, not after spending so much time with someone as enigmatic as Gilbert. But if he didn't say anything...what would happen then? Most likely nothing, right?

Then again nothing was better than being left alone. If he didn't do anything, he could just keep Gilbert's friendship. So that was the answer – he did nothing. He endured the frustrating brushes and glances and all of that. He could do it, right? After all, he was definitely stronger than he looked...maybe not against Gilbert though...This was not going to go well.

~*~

Gilbert smirked as he walked – more like barged – through the Canadian's front door. Who needed to knock when they were as awesome as he was? Besides, he'd gotten a key made month's ago, it even had little Gilbirds on it. His smirked turned to a small smile when he saw Matthew's body slumped over the table in the kitchen, his head leaning on his folded arms. The man could be so adorable when he slept, it was amazing he hadn't been taken by someone – Francis – yet. His breathing was coming out evenly, blowing his odd curl up and down in rhythm with it.

He took the seat across from him, his chin on his arms so as to get a better view of the man. Also by doing so he could smell the man's shampoo; it was fruity and mixing with the soapy smell he usually had, something uniquely Matthew adding an interesting twist to the mix as well. It was like smelling heaven. He was practically breathing on the man's head, ruffling his hair and causing him to stir and open a violet eye blearily.

"Hey Sleeping Beauty. Time to make your Prince Charming some pancakes."

Matthew yawned and chuckled slightly. "If you were really my prince, wouldn't you have to take me away on your horse first?"

"Nope. You would use the dragon I tamed to cook for me first because of my sheer awesomeness." Gilbert grinned at the obviously infallible logic.

"Oh yes, how could I forget?" Matthew shook his head at the man, trying not to think of the idea of Gilbert wearing armor and saving him...and what usually happened after though the Disney movies refused to show it. His cheeks flushed when he realized exactly how close the man was. He was supposed to be avoiding these types of situations, he could just feel the raw want burning in his stomach when he thought how easy t would be to just lean that little bit closer... Dammit, he was doomed.

"So...pancakes" Gilbert questioned, oblivious to his friend's distress. Gilbird hopped off his head at the mention of food. When the hell did he show up?

"Ah! Y-Yes...right away!"

Matthew scurried away from the table, mind trying to stay on the ingredients for pancakes instead of the electricity still running through him. Everything had just seemed so...obsolete when Gilbert was looking at him like that, eyes half-lidded and darker than usual, as if it were just them in the world. He wanted to go back to the table, pull the man to him and kiss him until they couldn't breath...but that would just be the wrong way to do things. Gilbert would get up and walk out and that would be the end of it.

He sighed and stirred the batter for his friend's brunch – or was it diner now? How long had he been asleep? Then again, it didn't matter much. The only thin he had to do today was watch a hockey match, but he had been sure to record it so he had nothing to worry about – except the man sitting in front of his television waiting for food that was now burning on the pan. Maybe Gilbert would stay for the game. He knew as well as anyone that hockey meant beer and beer meant that he could get drunk without Ludwig cutting him off. He'd even left enough to supply a grocery store in his basement just in case – Canadian beer was too bland for his 'awesome' tastes.

"Gil! Come get your pancakes!"

He set a stack of at least ten pancakes – they would be gone before he managed to finish two – in front of the chair Gilbert had been in earlier. Of course, just to torment him, when he returned with the two bottles of maple syrup he knew he would need, the man was sitting next to his usual spot already feeding small bits of pancake to Gilbird who was chirping happily at the attention. Matthew's heart fluttered at the sight, though he should _not_ be happy that the man was still choosing to sit next to him. He said he was not going to say anything and this would not be helpful to that goal, dammit!

Ah, why did life feel the need to torture him? He just wanted to live a peaceful life without the urge to explode every time his friend turned his ruby eyes on him. Surely this was hell, there was no way it could be anything but. He had died, that was it. He had died and being tormented by want for Gilbert was his eternal punishment.

Gilbert smiled happily when Matthew handed him the bottle of syrup and began to pour half of it over his stack of pancakes. Matthew took a lot less than his friend and began to eat as if he weren't bright red and said friend was not bumping him with his leg.

"Hey, where's the beer?"

"Gil, you don't drink beer with pancakes..."

"Of course you do! Beer is the Francis of drinks – it goes with everything! But only someone as awesome as me would understand that I guess. So get me some beer, Sleeping Beauty."

Matthew flushed at the new nickname. "No. get it yourself if you insist on drinking it with every meal." And so you won't be making me feel that warm anymore, he thought.

Gilbert huffed. "Such a lazy princess you are!"

"Not a princess, Gil. No boobs, in case you hadn't noticed."

"Maybe you're just flat-chested."

"Then how do you explain the penis?"

"Genetic defect." Gilbert smirked as Matthew growled at being called a hermaphrodite.

"Whatever, just get your damn beer. Crazy Prussian Bastard."

"Now that is no way for a princess to talk."

"Guess who doesn't care because he's not a damn princess."

"It's okay Mattie, you can be honest with yourself here, it's just me after all."

Matthew sighed through his nose and laid his head on the table, effectively ending the conversation and giving Gilbert the idea that he had won. Gilbert moved his plate and laid his head down next to Matthew's to stick his tongue out childishly. Matthew giggled and did the same. He felt warm and maybe a bit silly doing it, but it was fun. The two continued to stick their tongues out at each other until Gilbert leaned over and placed a small, barely-there kiss to Matthew's arm. He felt his cheeks flush and the desire to kiss Gilbert ran through him, but he ignored it though his mind screamed at him for doings so, and simply stuck his tongue out at the man again.

Gilbert ignored it as well, as if it had never happened, and stuck his tongue out and rolled it over making Matthew laugh and turn away.

"You wanna stay for a hockey game?" Matthew ignored the rasp to is voice, hoping Gilbert would do the same.

"Does hockey mean beer?" Gilbert perked at the thought.

"Does it ever _not _include beer?"

"Yes! Then go get me my beer, Princess, while I claim your couch!"

"H-Hey! That's not fair!" But Gilbert was already gone. "Lousy prince wanna-bes."

~*~

By the end of the first half, Matthew was ore than a bit drunk at Gilbert's feet. He was sitting on the floor while Gilbert laid on the couch – now claimed as "New Prussia" - surrounded by beer cans. Most were Gilbert's, but he had had more than a few himself.

"Hey Princess." Gilbert kicked the blond head near his foot gently. "Go get more beer for your Prince."

Matthew blushed and took the roll of princess grandly, answering in a falsetto voice as well as giving the "prince" a curtsey as he left the room.

"Of course, my lord."

Gilbert snorted. The guy was drunk alright. Not even a sarcastic comment to tell him off. Though it was kind of cute that he had curtsied. Maybe he could have some fun with this?

He sat up on the couch and worked his way to the floor I order to sit next to the spot Matthew had left and would surely return to. Matthew returned a few seconds later with a case of beer, curtseying as he handed it to Gilbert.

"My lord." And he plopped down next to Gilbert happily.

Gilbert placed his beer on the table in front of them and rolled onto his stomach to face Matthew's thigh.

"Mattie, get down here."

Matthew complied, though a bit clumsily, and was soon facing Gilbert on the floor, torso supported by his elbows.

"Sup?"

"Well, I was thinking, since I'm the awesome prince and you're my princess, I should get a kiss." He smirked as color rushed to Matthew's already pink cheeks.

"I always thought that the prince kissed the princess, not the other way around."

Gilbert pretended to think it over. "Hmm? Then I get to kiss you, no?" His smirk widened as Matthew nodded. "Great."

He closed the distance between them happily, watching Matthew shut his violet-blue eyes and return the kiss before closing his own. He didn't make it last long, just a few seconds, and made no move to deepen it, but when he pulled away he was met with a now-sober, angry Matthew. Not what he had expected at all.

"You're a real jerk you know that?" Matthew whispered.

"I thought princesses were supposed to be happy when their prince kisses them?"

"Well not this one! ...And I'm not a princess!" he added quickly.

"Oh? Then prove it."

He had no idea how, but Matthew had managed to get him on his back and was pinning him down not two seconds after he finished stating his challenge. He sat on his hips, holding his arms above his head by the wrists, panting heavily with flushed cheeks. Perfection.

"Told you I wasn't a princess."

"You still seem like one to me. See? You're blushing, princes don't blush."

"God dammit Gilbert! That is not the fucking reason I'm angry, eh!"

"Then what the hell is wrong with you?"

"You, eh! You keep fucking confusing me!"

"How the hell do I do that?! I don't even fucking do anything to you other than ask for pancakes!"

"Dammit Gilbert! You fucking touch me all the time, eh! And you do shit like what you did earlier and you confuse me!"

"What did I even do earlier?! I asked for pancakes and you made them."

"You fucking kissed my arm! You sit next to me, though the other side of the table is just fine, you touch my leg with yours constantly, and you look at me like you want to do something more than just hug me, eh! So what the hell is it?! Do you fucking care about me? Do you like me? What do you want from me, eh?! Because if you don't want anything but my friendship, just cut the fucking bullshit out and quit leading me on, eh!"

Gilbert blinked up at Matthew – who still managed to keep his arms pinned through his entire speech. Was that really what he'd been so upset over? Silly Canadians. He smirked.

"That was what you were upset over? Princess Mattie, you should know better than to assume you know the Awesome Prince Gilbert's emotions."

Matthew's face fell slightly, violet eyes closed a bit as he took Gilbert's words. "So...You only want to be friends then?"

"Only if you can't prove you're not a princess, Princess."

Matthew's cheeks flushed deeper and his eyes closed. He took a deep breath to steady his already worn out nerves and pressed his lips clumsily to Gilbert's. He felt the man smirk against his lips and pulled away.

"I still don't think you've quite proved it enough. That was a very princess kiss, Mattie."

Matthew matched Gilbert's smirk as he leaned down again, forcing their lips together more viciously. He bit at Gilbert's lip, pulling it into his mouth a licking it until he was granted entrance. He ran his tongue over every part of Gilbert's mouth, making the man moan deep in his throat when he ran it over the roof of his mouth. And then their tongues were wrapping around each other and Matthew lost himself.

He nipped and ran his teeth over his tongue until they both were dieing for air. Somehow his arms had left the albino's wrists and were now in his hair, now the free arms were holding him in place and pressing their hips together at the same time.

"That...was a very princely kiss." Gilbert said, voice husky, when he caught his breath. Matthew smirked, pleased with himself. "Of course, just because you can kiss doesn't mean you get to top. I always top, Mattie."

"Oh? Then why don't you prove it, Princess Gilbert?" His smirk widened when he was flipped onto the couch and straddled by an angry Prussian.

"If you insist."

**Okay so a lot of this stuff totally happens to me like every damn day of the week! It's awful! Teenage guys are the worst people alive  
I tells ya! Okie dokie! Tell me what you think, please!**


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